


Hey, Been Trying To Meet You

by writerstrash



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Father-Daughter Relationship, I think you know where it goes, It's cute AF and I loved writing it, Parent Tony Stark, Peter has a crush, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony has a daughter ok, she is Peter's age, so I'll continue it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-08
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:47:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23527123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writerstrash/pseuds/writerstrash
Summary: Tony Stark has a 16 year old daughter who has, surprisingly, never met Peter Parker, his 16 year old mentee/intern/masked vigilante. When they finally meet, Tony realises why. Teenagers.
Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Peter Parker/O.C
Comments: 7
Kudos: 61





	1. Don't Look At Her Like That, Kid

Peter was starting to feel more comfortable in the car with Happy these days. Sure, Happy didn't talk much, and if Peter talked _too_ much, Happy would close the partition to drive in peace. But it was well-balanced, he thought. Happy didn't hate him, and Peter toned down his chattiness. He was always so awkward around people he admired, and he tended to ramble on and on until he knew the other person was full of regret for saying a single word.

But it worked, these days. They were in a comfortable agreement. 

Happy picked Peter up from school, just around the block from the main entrance to avoid any questions, and drove him to Stark Tower to work in the lab for a few hours with Tony. They had a good schedule going, and even May supported it. It was good for Peter to be around Tony. So, every Thursday and every second Friday, they'd be in the lab with pizza working on new Avenger equipment or Spider-related upgrades.

But there was one thing Peter had yet to experience about Tony's life. Something he had always been quite nervous about, but had leaned to push to the back of his mind. Until today.

"Just gotta make a stop," Happy informed, looking to Peter through the rear-view mirror. "And scoot over, you're getting company,"

Dread. Dread. Dread. New people. Peter didn't like meeting new people in last-minute situations.

"Oh, ok," he stuttered back, moving his backpack from the seat beside him down to his feet.

"Frankie's stuck in Brooklyn," Happy sighed. "I know a few tricks though, won't take us long,"

Frankie. _Frankie._ Who the hell was Frankie? Happy said the name as if Peter should know, and now that he thought about it, he had heard the name Frankie a few times now. All around Tony, Pepper and Happy. 

Frankie. Frances. Francesca Stark. Tony's _daughter_ , Frankie.

"Yeah, okay, that's cool," Peter nodded, trying to sound as relaxed as possible.

Happy took another look at him before rolling the partition back up. 

Cool. So Peter was about to meet Tony's daughter. Tony's kid. Tony's _real_ kid. The kid he heard about and read about, but never actually met. She was usually with her mom in Boston, from what he had heard from the news. It often gave Peter a gross feeling to realise that most of what he knew about Tony and his family was from the media. But it was hard not to know about Frances. 

Tony did everything in his power to keep her out of the spotlight, especially after the Iron Man announcement. He spoke about her with Peter a few times before, but the boy never pushed for more information. They had an awkward enough father-son relationship without Peter seeking out his family information.

Huh. So, Frances was Frankie. Frankie Stark. It sounded too weird for Peter to say. The name Frances was so much more refined and normal. A little more normal and casual compared to the full Francesca. It was an Italian name. Fitting, for Tony had Italian heritage and her mother was an Italian model.

Peter wondered if she would be like Tony. He remembered seeing pictures of her in the past. Shots of her and Tony out and about, her school photos the news had taken ahold of. Ned had Googled images not too long ago to point out to Peter that she was pretty and that Peter would be an awkward mess around her. He shut his friend down immediately and refused to talk about it.

But now, it seemed, he had no choice but to live out that awkwardness. 

Happy made it to Brooklyn in almost twenty minutes with his tricks. Peter had been scanning the streets the moment they began to slow down, searching for the girl he was about to meet. But before he had chance to spot her, the door opposite him opened and Frankie jumped in, slamming the door behind her.

"Can you at least wait for the wheels to stop before you jump in?" Happy asked, partition down once again.

"I thought you were all about efficiency, Hap?" she laughed, throwing her own bag down at her feet. 

Peter tried his best to be normal in this situation, but he wasn't sure where to look. He didn't want to be rude and stare out the window, but he didn't want to stare and wait for her to notice him either. Instead, he settled for fidgeting with his fingers and glancing up at her gently.

Peter had never seen Frances up close before. The photos he did see were from years ago, and the ones he had spotted around Tony's penthouse were of a little girl, not a teenager. She did look like Tony. Her brown, doe eyes mirrored his almost exactly. She had dark brown, almost black hair that was falling out of a ponytail. She reached up to pull it free, running her hand through the silky locks before she locked eyes with Peter.

Great. She finally saw him and he was staring.

"Oh, hey. I didn't know Happy was running an after-school Uber," 

"Oh, I'm not...I'm...I'm P-"

"I'm kidding, I know you're Peter," she nodded. " _The_ Peter, right?"

Peter was going red now.

"Uh, I-I guess," he smiled, nervous. "If....if there's no other Peter,"

"There's a billion other Peter's, if we're being honest. It's a very common name," she shrugged. "But you're _the_ Peter, to me."

Okay. 

Peter's heart was doing a weird thing.

Her voice was so... _charming_. 

"My dad talks about you a lot," she explained. "Intern, right?"

Were words even possible for Peter right now? He needed to try.

"Y-yeah, intern," he nodded. "And kind of...lab assistant,"

"He's kind of obsessed with you, by the way, if you didn't know," she sighed, reaching into her bag to pull out an apple. "But...maybe pretend you don't know, because he's a sensitive old man, ya know?"

Yeah, Peter was staring.

"Hey, speaking of pretending not to know," Happy cut in, eyeing them in the mirror once again. "Does your mom know you were hanging around in Brooklyn?"

"Mom said I could take a half-day at school," she argued.

"Did you tell her where you were going?"

"She's the one who started dad's weekend early," Frankie shrugged. 

"So, no, she doesn't know where you were," he filled in. "What were you doing out here anyway?"

"I have friends," she rolled her eyes. 

"And what'd you call me for? Your dad would have picked up you,"

Frankie groaned.

"Oh, because I just _love_ the car interrogation questions too much Happy, I couldn't give that up," she sighed. "Don't make Peter listen to your Grumpy Happy setting,"

Peter smirked for a moment, debating his words.

"Does he _have_ another setting?" 

Frankie laughed, clapping her hands together and watching as Happy glared back at Peter. 

"Yeah, Happy, do we get a manual so we can pick?" she added. "'cause I've never figured it out,"

Partition up. Once again.

It was funny until Peter realized it just left him and Frankie alone.

"He's not always Grumpy Happy," she amended. "The way he works is, the more he asks and annoys you, the more he cares. So if you get interrogations too, just know you're kinda special, really,"

"Huh," Peter nodded. "I just assumed it was because I'm annoying,"

"You can't tell me you're annoying," she shook her head, chewing a bite of apple and kicking off her shoes to cross her legs on the seat. "You have to let me figure that out for myself,"

"Oh, uh..." he stuttered, smiling. "Sorry, spoilers."

Frankie smiled, taking another bite and staring over at him. She looked at people the same way Tony did. Like they were sizing them up, mentally. Analysing their wit. Drawing out their mysteries. 

"Do you want a spoiler for me, too? It seems kinda fair since you gave that away,"

"Uh, sure," Peter nodded.

"Hmm," she thought. "You know what? I'm _also_ annoying,"

They both laughed.

"Wait, you can't use _my_ spoiler for yourself,"

Frankie shrugged.

"Can, will and did,"

"But annoying is such a subjective thing to say about yourself," Peter argued. "Just because _you_ think it, doesn't mean I will,"

She watched him closely. 

"Well, I guess we'll see if we can prove each other wrong or right, huh?"

Peter watched her too.

"Yeah, I guess we'll see,"

* * *

Frankie stepped out of the car first when they arrived at the tower, slinging her bag over her shoulder and making her way to the elevator. Peter grabbed his bag and began to follow, before he felt Happy's hand on his shoulder stopping him for a moment.

"I'm taking you back home this afternoon," the man informed him.

"Yeah, is that okay? I can walk, or get a cab, or take-"

"Well, it's kind of my job," Happy rolled his eyes. "Just let me know when you're good to go,"

"Okay," Peter nodded, giving the man a smile. "Thanks Happy,"

"Oh, and..." Happy continued, waiting a moment for Peter to meet his gaze. "Don't look at her like that, kid,"

Peter's whole body went into panic. 

"W-wait, what? I'm not looking at anyone like anything-"

But Happy was already walking away, shaking his head and muttering about how teenagers were not part of his job description. For a man with no children, he certainly had the grey hair and stress of a father.

Peter pulled himself together and began walking toward the elevator, noticing that Frankie was waiting for him before pressing the button to take them to the top. She she looking at her phone now, scrolling mindlessly, thinking nothing of the situation. Peter felt so wrong. How had he been looking at her? Why did Happy say that to him?

When he finally stepped into the elevator, Frankie pushed the button for the penthouse and let out a long sigh. 

"So, what school do you go to, Peter?"

"Midtown,"

"Science and Tech?"

"Uh, yeah," he nodded again. 

"I think if I lived here, I'd want to go there," she nodded. "But can you imagine Happy doing endless laps around the school every day?"

Peter laughed. That was a very real possibility.

"Where do you go to school?"

"Back in Boston," she shrugged. "Private school bullshit. Dad likes the security, mom likes the prestige. But when I'm here I just do online class," 

"You don't like your school?"

"Look what I'm wearing, dude," Frankie held up her arms.

She was in a long sleeve white button up shirt and with checkered skirt, and a navy blazer stuck out the top of her bag where it had been stuffed inside. Peter looked her over quickly, noticing she was watching him, and then returned to her eyes.

"It's not the worst uniform I've seen," he chuckled.

"Come on, I look like I should be handing out Bibles," she laughed. "Oh well, only two more years,"

The elevator began to slow, but their conversation continued.

"College?"

"Yeah, that's the plan, but I haven't picked which one yet. Haven't even picked a career path. I feel like everyone kinda knows by now what they want to do, but I can't choose anything," she shrugged, walking out.

Peter followed behind her.

"I mean, I still don't know," he told her. "I don't know what I'm supposed to do,"

"Well here's a handy tip from someone with no idea," she began. "Don't lean toward what you're _supposed_ to do, and think about what you _want_ to do,"

Peter smiled at her, nodding lightly. She made it into the living room, throwing her bag down on the couch and kicking her shoes off nearby. Something Peter never did. Something Peter really didn't feel entitled to do. With her socks still on, Frankie slid along the tiles in the kitchen to the fridge and pulled out a carton of juice. 

"Want some?" 

Peter didn't usually spend too much time in the actual living area up here before the lab. He had watched a few movies with Tony on the couch and he slept in the guest room a few times now too, but usually after school he went directly to the lab just a few levels below. Then he began to realise he was kind of hanging out with Frankie right now.

"Uh, yeah," he nodded, sitting his bag down. "Thanks,"

"So do you guys just like, go and blow shit up down there?" she asked, pulling out two glasses from the cupboard.

Peter laughed.

"Uh, no. Well, not _always_ ,"

"Every time I come home and we're in the labs, dad always shows me the stuff you helped him make," she explained. "I think he's secretly trying to make me jealous, he's always tried to push me into engineering for my college major,"

"I'm not technically an engineering major, either," Peter shook his head, leaning on the bench. "I love it, though. I love everything in the field, really. But I'm more into biochemistry stuff,"

Frankie nodded in interest, pushing his glass of juice over in front of him as she took a sip of her own. 

"I'd like to spend more time with biochemistry," she told him. "I do love engineering, though. Just seems like of unoriginal to do what my dad did, since the whole world kind of expects that anyway. Plus, I think my mum would cry if I spent anymore time in our garage breaking things,"

Peter laughed. She was more like Tony than he was ever expecting.

That's when the elevator doors opened once again, the man himself walking out. 

For some reason, Peter felt the need to step back slightly, even through the kitchen bench separated him and Frankie significantly. The man was dressed in an expensive suit, pulling off equally expensive sunglasses. Tony looked between the two of them; Peter standing nervously, Frankie sipping on her juice.

It was a weird sight for Tony, really. Two of the most incredibly important people to him standing there together.

"So, you two finally met, huh?"

"Has this been a thing?" Frankie asked. "Did you think if we met it would trigger the end of the world?"

"It's likely," Tony shrugged, smirking. "You both like to make things explode, so..."

"Not on purpose," Peter added.

"Sometimes on purpose," Frankie grinned.

"See? Dangerous," Tony pointed between the two. "Anyway, I'm glad you guys met. I really don't know why it took so long,"

"Maybe because you have this neat habit of keeping me away from everyone?" Frankie suggested with a shrug.

"Coincidental timing," her father explained. "You were supposed to call me when your flight got in,"

"I texted you," Frankie tilted her head, confused. "And you always get alerts when I land,"

"Uh huh, you texted me when Happy picked you up from _Brooklyn_. Which is a whole other question,"

"I have friends, dad," she rolled her eyes. "You know, those people you talk to and laugh and hang out with?"

Tony stared at her, a stern fatherly frown. 

"How'd you get to Brooklyn?"

"Friends," she shrugged, again. "Can we not do all the questions, please?"

"You need to call _me_ for those things, okay?"

"I know, but I knew you were at the office with Pepper today," she sighed. 

Tony stared at her for a moment longer, stepping forward to press a kiss to her forehead. She leaned in, hugging him tight. Peter felt like he was definitely observing a private moment between the two, but neither seemed bothered at all by his presence. 

"Pepper's gonna be home in an hour," Tony told her, smoothing her hair back. 

"Is she bringing-"

"Gnochhi? Yes," Tony laughed. "And lasagne. Me and Pete have some lab work to do, you okay here?"

"Yeah, I have some work to finish," she nodded. "Are you guys gonna come eat with us?"

Tony looked over to Peter who looked a little more than stunned to be acknowledged. 

"Oh, uh...s-sure,"

"We get distracted easily," Tony told her. "So maybe remind us when the food's here. Sure you don't have to be home for you Aunt?"

"No, no she's working anyway," Peter explained. "I mean, only if there's enough-"

"Kid, you should see how much pasta she eats. There's _plenty_ ,"

* * *

Peter and Tony worked like normal down in the lab. The music was a little less loud today, but that's because Peter had to run Tony through the new formula he had been working on. Everything felt so normal. As if Peter hadn't just gone through a rollercoaster of surprise and feelings in a matter of a few hours over a simple meeting. 

"So, uh...Frankie does lab stuff too?" Peter asked, carefully moving a few vials of chemicals.

Tony looked over to him, a slight smile on his lips.

"This is weird," he said. "You saying 'Frankie' kinda freaks me out, kid,"

"Should I not call her that?" the boy asked.

"No, no it's fine. It's just...weird. Weird for _me_ , you know? The two of you meeting, it's...it's nice. Just can't believe it happened without me actually being there. But yeah, she comes down here a lot. Ever since she was little."

"I shouldn't be surprised that she's probably a genius too, right?"

Tony chuckled.

"Don't tell her that. She's got a lot of things from me, and the ego is definitely one of them," 

Peter laughed too, shaking his head.

"She's nice, I like her,"

"Yeah? I'm glad," Tony smiled. "I don't really like her meeting some of the people I have around me. But you...I always wanted you two to meet. I mean, you're the same age and you're both crazy smart, and you're one of the few people in my life I like having around,"

Peter looked to Tony, his heart warming.

"Thanks, Mr. Stark,"

* * *

Later that night, as Tony sat on the couch after Peter had gone home, Frankie came and planted herself by his side and snuggled in. This was something Tony always missed when she wasn't here. It was hard to have his daughter living away from him and not being able to see her every day. But every since she was born, Tony had vowed to do whatever it took to keep Frankie safe and loved and protected from the evil that his life could bring.

He and Isabella, Frankie's mom, always had a good relationship, and Tony never took that for granted. There was no toxicity between them, no matter how many problems arose, Frankie was their number one priority. 

But whenever she came home to New York, Tony realized just how badly he wished she lived here all the time. 

"You know mom's boyfriend surprised her with a trip," Frankie explained. "That's why she I had to come early,"

Tony sighed, rubbing her back.

"I know. How do you feel about Jonathan, anyway?"

Frankie shrugged.

"He's nice, I guess. He likes her a lot, and she seems happy with him. He even offered to take me too, but...third wheeling with mom? No thanks," she huffed as Tony laughed. "But even if that wasn't weird, I'd still rather come here,"

Tony warmed, squeezing her tighter to his side.

"I'm actually really glad you're here earlier this weekend," he told her softly. "I missed you, kiddo,"

Frankie smiled.

"Me too. And I'm sorry I didn't call when I got in, but I knew this was last minute and I didn't want you to leave any meetings-"

"I will always leave meetings for you, you know that,"

"I know, dad," she sighed. "But I'm not a baby anymore, I can make my own way sometimes. And I always call Happy,"

"Please stop reminding me that you're not a baby," Tony groaned. "I feel old enough,"

Frankie laughed, closing her eyes and just resting against Tony's chest. 

Tony continued watching the news, flicking between that and the Discovery Channel for another twenty minutes before Frankie spoke up again.

"Dad?" she spoke, sleepy.

"Mm?"

"I really like Peter,"

Tony smiled. 

Wait.

No. They only just met. They're gonna be great friends.

But they were teenagers. Same age, same interests, both going through the biggest developmental period of their lives.

Oh.

**Oh.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I really loved writing this. I always thought this idea would be cute as fuckkkkkk. I've seen a few stories out there with Tony's daughter/Peter, but I hadn't really read any of them. But the more I thought about it, the more I wanted to write my own version. I've always had a vision of what Tony's daughter would be like and I plan to write her very realistically by drawing on my own teenage experiences but also incorporating the fact she has grown up far from normal in the Stark spotlight. I also think the relationship between her and Peter is going to be incredibly exciting to write and mix in all sorts of angst - especially because Frankie doesn't know Peter is Spider-Man!  
> Also - I know her name might not be everyone's favourite. But I loved the idea of her having a traditionally Italian name but in a modern context where it could have this kind of nickname, and that Tony chooses to call her Frances and it's just very cute. Anyway, enough rambling. I just wanted to say I'm very excited about this story and I hope you all follow and are as interested in reading as I am in writing!


	2. Buddy-ish

Ned was staring at Peter as if he just found out about Spider-Man all over again. It was embarrassing, really, just how dramatic his best friend could be. 

"Dude, you're like...you're like _friends_ with Francesca Stark!" 

It was odd now, hearing her name in full.

"I only met her once, Ned,"

"But you guys had dinner!"

"Yeah, with Pepper and Mr. Stark," Peter explained. "This wasn't a one-on-one hang out,"

"Please don't make her your new best friend," the boy frowned. "I'm the best friend. Just me!"

Peter laughed.

"I don't know, now you mention it, we _are_ kind of best friends now, so maybe you and I need to take a break,"

Ned shook his head.

"Don't even joke about it, dude,"

They ate their lunch in silence for a few more minutes. Peter looked around the crowded cafeteria, trying to focus on anything else. But his mind kept going back to the night before, sitting at the table with Tony and Pepper and _Frankie._

There was something so compelling about her. The way she spoke to Peter as if she had known him for years made him feel so normal. When he was here, at school, Peter was the nerd. He was the kid who Flash couldn't stop bullying. The kid that ran off in the middle of class and had a million rumours about his weird life. He was the orphan who got the pity, but still had the torment.

"What's she like?" Ned asked, obviously unable to let it go.

Peter shrugged.

"She's nice. She's...yeah, she's really cool,"

"I knew she'd be cool," Ned sighed. "How could she not be, right? What'd you guys talk about?"

"I don't know, school stuff, college stuff," Peter shrugged. "Nothing exciting. We just...talked,"

Ned stared at him, his lips very slowly curling up into a smirk.

"Uh huh," he smiled.

Peter rolled his eyes.

"No, don't make this a thin-"

"You like her, don't you?" Ned teased. "I know your face, Peter. You have a thing for Iron Man's daughter!"

"Oh my god, can you maybe not _yell_ that across the room?" Peter shushed, looking around. "And no, I don't,"

"You can't lie to me, I'm the best friend," Ned shook his head. "Man, this is gonna be weird for you and Tony, isn't it? I mean he's kind of like...he's sort of your-"

"Mentor," Peter cut in. "I'm just a kid, and she's _his_ kid,"

"His kid, _your_ crush,"

Peter groaned.

"Stop making this a thing,"

"Just admit it and I'll stop,"

Peter looked up at his friend, frowning.

"No, you won't,"

Ned grinned.

"So, you admit it?"

Peter rolled his eyes again, deciding to finish his lunch and ignore his friends taunts. To be honest, Peter didn't know what he was feeling right now. He met Frankie once. Just once. But she _saw_ him. And not for Spider-Man, and not for some nerd that needed to be pitied. She just saw Peter.

* * *

Tony sat in Pepper's office at Stark Industries, waiting for her to return from a meeting. He had been down in R & D for most of the day, overseeing the new projects and working on scholarship briefings. He had heard from the team upstate at the compound that training for the new recruits was going well, and there was nothing of urgent importance to focus on. 

His phone began to buzz on the table in front of him.

_Incoming Call: Frances_

Tony would be seeing his daughter in a few more days. Once a month, Tony had her for an entire week. The whole Monday to Sunday. He always made sure to have no Iron Man ops or Avengers meetings in that time, but there had been multiple occasions where it just couldn't have been avoided. But Frances was an understanding kid. At least, she had to be.

"Hey kiddo," Tony answered. "Shouldn't you still be at school?"

_"I forgot a permission slip for the museum tomorrow and mom's not answering her phone and I need to hand it in before the bell or I can't go and they need to talk to you because it's mom's name on the slip but she's not answering and the bell is in like fifteen minutes!"_

"Alright, tell me who I need to call and I'll do it now," he assured. "Don't worry, you're not gonna miss out,"

 _"My science teacher, but just call the school and they'll put you through,"_ Frankie explained. _"Mom already signed it, she's gonna be so pissed I lost it,"_

"It's just a piece of paper,"

 _"She reminded me, like, eight times before I left this morning. I'm never gonna hear the end of it,_ " she huffed. 

"And this is why you remind me of a puppy dog, Frances. Your mind goes too fast, you forget all the little things," he laughed. "I'll call them now, okay?"

_"Thank you, dad! I love you and I'll see you Monday!"_

"Love you too, little miss," he smiled.

_"Not a baby!"_

By the time Tony got off the call with Frankie's school, Pepper was back in the office setting down a huge pile of folders. Tomorrow's duties all ready to go. But Tony had made a point of limiting how much work Pepper brought home with her, especially since her migraines became more frequent. They were in a calm moment in their life right now, and although it was welcome, Tony couldn't help worry.

Whenever life managed to become somewhat normal for Tony Stark, something went wrong. Something always went wrong, and Tony could feel it brewing.

* * *

Tony wasn't a very good cook. He had progressed in recent years, making actual meals with vegetables and there were less fire-alarm incidents than ever, but he still wasn't too confident with his skills. But Frankie loved pancakes, and Tony happened to be very good at those.

"Flip it!" Tony instructed, standing next to his daughter at the stove. "See the bubbles?"

"I know how to flip a pancake," Frankie assured.

Tony grinned at Frankie's tongue poking out of her mouth, bitten between her teeth in concentration. It was her look of pure focus, one she had maintained her whole life, and it was adorable. Seeing it on her now just reminded him of how little she used to be, and how he wished she would stop growing up.

"Shit!" she gasped.

The pancake was folded in half, collapsed onto itself in the middle of the flip. 

"Well, there _is_ a science to it," Tony shrugged. "Guess that's one more thing I'm better at than you,"

Frankie turned to him, glaring.

"I'm still going to eat it," she insisted. "This is exactly how I wanted my pancake to look,"

Tony laughed.

"Oh, so _I've_ been doing them wrong all these years, huh?"

"Exactly. I'm more evolved than you, dad," she nodded, taking a handful of blueberries to munch on. 

They ate together once Pepper joined them, the table a mess of syrups and fruits and coffee. One thing that was very noticeable when Frankie was with them - everything became messy. Hair ties all over the benches, coats and socks and shoes everywhere. It was like they had five children rather than just the one teenager.

"Oh, dad," Frankie turned to him, finishing off her mouthful. "Is it cool if I go to Abbie's on Wednesday?"

Tony pulled a face, Pepper rolled her eyes, ready for his questionnaire. 

"Who's Abbie?"

"Oh, god, Tony," Pepper shook her head. "You're kidding,"

Frankie huffed.

"Daaaaaad-"

"Well, I don't know who-"

"You _know_ Abbie," Pepper insisted.

"You've met her! You picked us both up from the movies like, two months ago! You even met her parents!"

"Oh, right, _that_ Abbie," Tony remembered. "The parents with the major hard-on for Steve Rogers,"

Pepper frowned.

"Can you not be disgusting for a moment?"

"Dad!" Frankie groaned. 

"So, what? You just want to go to her place?" he asked. "She's the friend in Brooklyn, isn't she?"

"Yeah, we were just gonna watch movies and Abbie wants to dye her hair blue," she explained. 

"Please tell me it's just Abbie doing the blue hair," Pepper shook her head, protesting.

Frankie looked to her, grinning.

"Can you _imagine_ if I went home to mom with blue hair?" she laughed. "Actually..."

"Nooooo," Tony cut in. "No. Nope. No blue hair. I'm making the Dad Decision here, okay? No blue hair."

"But wouldn't you just love to see mom's face?"

"It would be the last thing he ever saw," Pepper smirked.

"Terrifying, but very true," he sighed. "Alright, you can go to Abbie's. As long as you've got your phone with you-"

"When do I _not_ have my phone with me?" Frankie rolled her eyes. "And I haven't touched the tracker in this one, so you'll find me just fine,"

"Well if you're only going to be at Abbie's, I won't _have_ to find you, will I?"

"Nope," she shrugged. "But you'll still check it anyway, you always do,"

Pepper grinned.

"Don't say a word," Tony warned her playfully. "I don't check it _every_ time,"

* * *

"Okay, that's the third time in an hour you've checked that," Peter pointed out, looking up from his computer screen. 

"Just making sure it's calibrated properly," Tony shrugged, checking the little blip on the screen.

"It hasn't moved," 

"Okay, so it _is_ calibrated, and now I know that," he explained. "Why are you keeping score, anyway?"

"Because I'm holding this vial we just mixed up and I need the stuff in _your_ hand to start working," Peter reminded. "And you're obsessed with that thing,"

Tony rolled his eyes, finally minimising the tracking scree and focusing on the project they were in the lab for. It was hard to stop checking on Frankie. Tony had been like this ever since she was old enough to go on _play dates_ after all. It wasn't an easy habit to slip out of.

"What's the tracker for, anyway?" Peter asked as they began to mix up the new web formula.

"Frankie," Tony sighed. "She's In Brooklyn for the night, at a friend's place,"

Peter looked confused.

"So... _why_ are you tracking her?"

"I'm not tracking her," Tony shook his head. "She's not a fugitive on the run,"

"Then-"

"I just like to know where she is, and that she's okay. Gives her old man a little peace of mind," he defended. "There's a lot of people out there who don't like me, kid. People who would go after Frankie just to prove a point, to get whatever they want from me,"

Peter looked to him with an understanding nod. Tony was right. There were a _lot_ of people who didn't like him. Either for his past actions or the fact he was Iron Man and they just didn't agree, Tony had a lot of haters. Then there were the genuine bad guys out there, enemies of The Avengers, that could go after his biggest weakness - his family.

"Believe it or not, I really do _try_ not to pry into her life," the man explained. "It's...just easier said than done, I guess,"

"Has...has anything happened before?" Peter asked nervously.

Tony was quiet for a moment. 

"A few close calls. I owe Happy more than I could ever repay him for what he's done to keep her safe," he explained. "So, sometimes my security measures might seem a little overbearing, but...it's the only way I can sleep at night."

Peter gave a nod.

"She would understand,"

"She does. Most days, anyway. I wish it didn't have to be like this either. She didn't ask to be born into this, you know? I want her to be a kid. I've tried to give her the most 'normal' I can, but she just has so much more routine and stability when she's with her mom,"

Peter sometimes got glimpses of _this_ Tony. The one that would open up about his family, about his thoughts and feelings, before closing back up after he shared what he deemed enough. Maybe Tony figured since Peter now knew Frankie, could put a face to the name, he could explain himself a little better. But Tony didn't need to justify his parenting to Peter. 

"Frankie's really lucky to have you, Mr. Stark," Peter told him. 

Tony shrugged lightly, and Peter could tell that he wanted to move on now. Move away from the emotions he had just shared.

"She's a good kid, so...she does half the work of parenting for me," he laughed. "Even though I know she's probably doing something else tonight other than a makeover with a friend, but she's at the age...God, I don't even want to talk about what _I_ was doing at her age, at _your_ age, kid,"

Peter knew about what Tony had been up to at his age. The whole world knew. Most of it was recorded, anyway. For Tony, there was no escaping his reckless past or turbulent youth. 

"You think she's doing something else?" 

"Drinking, smoking, robbery, joining a cult - it all goes through my head," Tony sighed. "Frances...she's a smart girl. I trust her. But I just like to know where she is, at least. So I can keep an eye on _anything_ shady going on around her. Trust me, this is a lot easier than some of my earlier approaches of flying out in the suit to make sure she was okay,"

Peter adjusted his safety glasses as he transferred the web fluid from one vial to another, chuckling.

"So she was just with friends and Iron Man passes by?" 

"Yeah, didn't go down well with her and Pepper," Tony remembered. "It's something I have to hold back on every time she goes somewhere. Especially in New York, the media are a little extra scummy here and she and her friends could go anywhere,"

"Which is why you like to check the tracker," Peter nodded.

Tony shrugged again, running a hand over his face.

"I can only tone it down so much. Being a parent, you never shake that feeling of just wanting to _know_ they're okay,"

"I think if May could put a tracker on me, she would," Peter nodded.

"Parents, huh?" Tony chuckled, agreeing. "Well, at least she knows _I_ have a tracker on you,"

Peter stared at him.

"She knows that?"

"We talk,"

"That's sneaky, and unfair," the boy protested.

"That's parenthood," 

They continued working for another hour or so after their chat, Tony turning on some music to help them focus and drown out his own creeping concerns. They managed to get Peter's suit upgraded with the new web fluid and prepared schematics for the next stages before moving on to their own tinkering projects. Peter and Tony lost themselves in their work very similarly, which is probably why so many hours flew by when they were in the lab.

But when it came time for Peter to head off for the night, he could tell Tony was looking to the tracking monitor. It was just in the corner of his screen now, minimised, barely visible. But it was there.

"You know," Peter began, holding his mask in his hand as he finished suiting up, ready for a quick patrol on his way home. "I could always swing by, if you're worried,"

Tony looked to him, confused for a moment.

"Swing by...Frankie?"

"Yeah, you know...I'll be doing patrol, and it wouldn't be as noticeable as an Iron Man fly-by," he shrugged.

Tony continued to stare at the boy.

"Still weird to me that you two are... _buddy_ -ish,"

"Buddy-ish? What does that mean?" Peter asked, slightly embarrassed. "I-I haven't...I only just met her!"

Tony kind of enjoyed watching the kid squirm in panic. He was too easy to tease. Teenage boys, ever so sensitive and defensive.

"I don't know about you stalking my daughter-"

"Stalking?!" Peter gasped, eyes wide. "I'm not stalking! I just thought...this was to help you!"

"Most kids start with trying to get their number, they don't jump straight to following-"

"I'm _not_ following her! You seem so worked up still, I was just going to give you some peace of mind!" Peter argued.

Tony broke out into a grin.

"Okay, you're officially too easy to mess with, Pete," he sighed. "I appreciate it, I do. But I don't want to hover. And enlisting Spider-Man to spy would get me killed,"

Peter looked to him for a moment, thinking.

"She...she doesn't know I'm...you know..."

"What? Friendly Neighbourhood Spider?" Tony folded his arms, leaning back in his chair. "No. She would have immediately teased you about the spandex if she knew,"

"It's not spandex," Peter defended, cheeks growing red. 

"As far as she's aware, _I_ don't even know who you are. I design a few things for you, we fight some assholes together, but that's it," he explained. "But now she knows Peter Parker...and she's not an idiot. So we can't do any Spider-Man related work without lab the on lockdown,"

Peter nodded.

He could do that. They were _used_ to doing that. But they needed to be extra cautious now. The tower had always been a relatively safe place to live freely as both Peter and Spider-Man, and now it had to change. 

Frankie didn't know about him. Peter felt a wave of relief rush over him, then the creeping ache of guilt. Now, he needed to add another person to hide this from. The rest of the world might also be in the dark about his identity, but nothing felt worse than lying to people he actually knew. People that were actually in his life. 

"Okay, no more Spider business around the tower," Peter agreed, pulling on his mask and heading toward the balcony. "After...this last...jump,"

* * *

_ **Fifteen Minutes Later** _

Frankie should have stuck to her guns. When Abbie insisted, she should have fought back more. They were almost ready to put on their pyjamas and watch a sad movie when Abbie's older sister came into the room, telling them they had ten minutes to get ready for a party. 

Now, she was walking through the city on her own, trying to get back to Brooklyn. 

Luckily, she had swiped a jacket from one of the guys in the car and although it was ridiculously oversized, the hood managed to cover her head and face from any security cameras and unwanted attention. New York City was a big place until you needed it to be. 

One of the many, many downsides of her current situation was the lack of cell phone. Frankie had left it at Abbie's place in Brooklyn, knowing her father would check the location at least twice that night. 

"Hey honey, are you looking to have some fun?" a man called out, watching her as she walked by. "The night's still early,"

"Are you looking to join the Sex Offender Registry?" she asked, turning to flip him off. 

"Whatever, bitch!"

Frankie rolled her eyes, burrowing her hands down into the deep pockets of the jacket as she turned down another street, trying to get away from the busy groups.

"I love the city," she muttered. "Love this whole thing, love everything about it, couldn't get any better-"

Then she spotted him. Hanging from one of the street lights, making no effort to hide, watching her. He was perched awkwardly, but he looked comfortable, and Frankie couldn't help staring in return. 

"Well, if it isn't the infamous arachnid," 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys are enjoying reading this as much as I'm enjoying writing it! I'm planning to jump between the POV of Tony, Peter and Frankie at different stages. So, if some things aren't explained or you're wondering more, we'll get there! I really want to establish these two separate interactions that Frankie has with Peter vs with Spider Man, since she has no idea about his real identity. And here I am rambling again. I do this when I get excited about writing ideas. So much to explore, so much to write! No better time than now, right? I hope you're all doing well in the crazy world right now. 'til next chapter!


	3. We're Keeping It A Secret

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry this chapter took so long! I started it aaaages ago and, well, turns out a pandemic can hit real hard. I hope you're all staying safe. We'll get through this weird time together. Thanks for reading! Let me know if there's anything you'd like to see in the story as we go along.

**6 MONTHS EARLIER…**

Frankie sat on top of the kitchen bench, legs crossed and hair in a mess on top of her head, eating dry cereal straight out of the box as she watched the morning news. Well, morning was a stretch. It was eleven and Tony had already managed to squeeze in two meetings at the office today with Pepper. But it was Friday, and Frankie was all caught up on her school work and deserved to have a lazy day like this.

Tony watched her from his seat at the island, eyeing his coffee that was about to be knocked over by his daughter’s knee every time she moved. He knew he had no right to complain at her about eating cereal like that – it was a staple in his college diet – but the dad in him just couldn’t ignore it any longer.

“You know you have access to a bowl and milk, right?”

Frankie shrugged, her eyes still glued to the television.

“According to the _experts,_ you and Pepper are already married, you know? You guys eloped. A quiet ceremony in…Venice? Yeah, Venice.”

Tony rolled his eyes. “Huh. Guess we can stop all the wedding planning then.”

“Can’t believe you guys got married without me,” Frankie sighed. “Also, why would you get married in mom’s hometown?”

Tony looked to her, puzzled.

“Mom’s hometown isn’t Venice,”

Frankie rolled her eyes.

“It’s still in Italy!”

“So all of Italy is her hometown?”

Frankie shrugged.

“That’s how the media will take it. I don’t make the rules,”

Tony shook his head, reaching over to take his coffee and gulp it down before it ended up smashed against the tiles. Frankie took another handful of cereal and continued watching the news, crunching loudly.

“Dad, who’s Spider-Man?”

Looking toward the television, Tony saw footage of Peter swinging around the city, suited up and looking every bit the hero he was. New York loved him. Well, most of New York loved him. Just like Tony, Spider-Man had his own enemies. Except those enemies couldn’t find Peter like they could find Tony. His identity was still unknown, and would hopefully stay that way.

“A freakishly good acrobat,” Tony shrugged.

“But you know _who_ he is, right?”

Slight panic.

“Why would I know?”

“You make stuff for him,” she pointed out, setting down the box of cereal as he munched on the collection in her hand. “And you were flying around the city with him the other week,”

“Sure, but I don’t know who he _is_ ,” Tony explained.

“You would have asked though,”

Another shrug.

“He’s just a k-“ Tony paused, realizing his mistake. “Just a guy doing some good,”

“That Jonah guy would disagree,”

Tony rolled his eyes, frowning at just the thought of that man.

“He disagrees with everything and everyone, that’s the only reason they keep him in a job,”

Frankie chuckled, turning back to watch the footage.

“How old is this guy? He’s _so_ not your age,”

Tony frowned.

“You don’t think I could do that?”

Frankie laughed now, almost spitting her mouthful of cereal everywhere.

“Not without Friday, no,”

“Why are you out to attack me today?”

“I’m not attacking you! I just don’t know how you _don’t_ know who this guy is. You could so easily find out if you wanted to,”

Tony shrugged.

“I could. But I don’t want to. This guy puts his life on the line every time he goes out, and if he doesn’t want people to see his face, I’m not gonna go against that. Not everyone wants to advertise their alter-ego like me,” he explained. “But then, not everyone is as cool as me, so I get it,”

Frankie looked to him, rolling her eyes.

“You’re such a dad,”

“Well then, by that logic, you made me this way,”

“Hey, you can’t use me as an excuse, I’m the kid here!”

* * *

Peter stared back at Frankie, realizing in this moment that he really didn’t have a plan for this situation. He could just swing away and pretend he didn’t see her, there will still a chance. But Frankie was there. Walking on her own through the city at night. The city that would kill to get a piece of her.

And she was waiting for him to say something.

_Uh oh._

“Are you lost, Spider?” Frankie asked.

This was the time to speak. He needed to respond. He needed to deepen his voice.

“Why are you out here on your own?” he asked, sounding like he really needed to clear his throat.

Frankie smirked, fighting the urge to roll her eyes.

“Have you been sent out on a recon mission? Some guy in a shiny suit ask you to swing around looking for me?”

“No,” Peter defended immediately, trying to control his deeper voice. “But if I can find you out here, anyone could,”

“That’s very debatable,” she scoffed. “You’ve got a better vantage point than anyone else,”

"That’s not really answering the question,”

Frankie shrugged, pushing her hands down into the pockets of her hoodie.

“I don’t talk to strangers,”

“That’s a good tactic,” Peter nodded. “How about a stranger trying to help you, though?”

“A stranger, nonetheless,” she shook her head. “And a stranger who’s been sent to spy,”

Peter swung leisurely off the streetlight, hanging upside down with a long sigh.

“I haven’t been sent to spy,”

“Uh huh,”

“Don’t you think, instead of having me come out to spy, the guy in the shiny suit could just come out and find you himself?”

Frankie chuckled.

“He’s a lot easier to hide from than you think,”

Peter watched her for a moment. No one else was around. He couldn’t even see where she had come from.

“Where are your friends?”

“What makes you think I have friends?” she asked, watching him struggle to speak once again. “Why aren’t you off stopping some vendor from getting robbed?”

“I feel like we’re both asking a lot of questions without getting any answers,” Peter pointed out.

Frankie sighed, rolling her neck and stretching.

“If you’re here to escort me back to my inevitable grounding, let’s just get it over with,”

Peter stared for a while longer. She didn’t seem like she had been out drinking, she didn’t seem like she was hurt, she really just looked like she was just walking around on her own for no reason. Then again, Peter knew she would never tell him the reason.

Why would she? Frankie had never met Spider-Man before. All she knew of him came from the news and the occasional questions she had for her father. Frankie had no reason to trust him.

“I’m just looking out for you,” Peter shrugged, swiftly flipping to his feet on the sidewalk. “You’re walking through the streets on your own at night. I can’t just…swing by,”

“Sure, you can,” Frankie nodded. “You didn’t see me, and I didn’t see you,”

“Doesn’t work like that,” Peter shrugged.

Frankie stared at him, wondering who this guy really was.

“You know if I go home I’m basically dead, right?”

Peter chuckled.

“I’m not arguing with that,”

Frankie smirked.

“So you see the predicament I’m in, huh?”

“You still haven’t told me _why_ you’re walking around on your own. So I don’t get the predicament,” Peter explained.

With a long sigh, Frankie folded her arms and looked at him with tired eyes.

“I just need to get back to my friend’s house in Brooklyn,”

Peter took a deep breath.

“You’re walking back to Brooklyn? Right now, on your own?”

“You’re really big on reminding me that I’m walking on my own,”

“Can you see why?” he shook his head. “Take a cab, at least,”

Frankie groaned.

“I can’t take a cab,” she reached into her pockets and pulled them out. “I have no money and no phone,”

Peter thought about her options. There was no way he could take her to Brooklyn. Spider-Man swinging with Francesca Stark through New York would make the news in a matter of seconds. Tony could not find out about this.

“I’ll get you a cab,” he insisted. “Just…please don’t walk on your own,”

“A lot of people walk on their own, Spider,”

“I think you know why I stopped for you,”

“Oh, I could take a guess,” she sighed. “You sure you weren’t sent out to spy?”

“I wasn’t sent out to spy,” he promised. “Swinging through the city is kind of my thing,”

Frankie grinned.

“So I’ve heard,”

* * *

It was almost a month before Peter saw Frankie again. Since that night in the city, he had been on edge about Tony questioning him on it. But Frankie had a lot more to lose by telling her father that Spider-Man got her a cab to Brooklyn when she was out on her own than Peter did by admitting he found her.

Happy dropped Peter off at the tower after school, letting him know that Tony was still in a meeting but would be back within an hour. He had some homework to finish up anyway, and he knew that Tony didn’t like the idea of Peter starting up in the lab without him. It wasn’t a trust issue – Tony knew that Peter was extremely cautious in his lab. But with both Iron Man and Spider-Man projects in the works, there was always a chance of something going horribly wrong.

When Peter stepped out of the elevator at the penthouse, his senses immediately starting going off, but he barely had time to scan his surroundings before Frankie made herself known.

“Are you busy?” she asked, her voice strained.

Peter watched as Frankie did her best to put on a smile, a sweat breaking out on her forehead.

“Uh, n-no,” he shook his head, afraid of what she was about to offer.

“I just need a hand,” she breathed out, finally stepping out from the corner.

Peter inhaled sharply at the sight of Frankie’s left shoulder. It was dislocated, he was sure of it. Frankie was breathing deeply, desperately trying to stay calm and not freak Peter out.

“Oh my god,” Peter dropped his bag and books where he was, reaching for her arm before hesitating, hovering his hand just over her skin.

“I just need a little help popping it back in,” she groaned.

“Uh, I don’t think I’m the person for th-“

“I’ve had a dislocated shoulder before, I know how to do it,” she urged. “Please. If you don’t help me I’ll just have to do it on my own and I can’t reach out enough to pull it,”

“There’s a medical team downstairs!”

“Taking the elevator with my arm just hanging here is gonna kill me,” she whined. “Just grab my hand and pull my arm out until it’s straight, I’ll coach you through it! _Please_."

Peter really didn’t want to do this. _Really_ did not want to. Not only did it terrify him, but he also didn't trust his own strength. Popping a shoulder back into place takes precision and just the right amount of force. Peter could literally snap her bones in half. 

"I've seen people pass out from the pain of popping it back in," he explained, shaking his head. "I'll call the medical team before we get down there, okay? You're dad's gonna be home soon and I think he might kill us both if we do this on our own,"

Frankie groaned in pain, breathing heavy. "This is killing me already."

"It's gonna be okay. These people know exactly what they're doing. It's way better than me or you trying to do this, alright? I'll come with you," he offered. "I-If you want me to,"

Frankie nodded immediately. She reached over to hold her arm as best she could while making her way to the elevator doors. Peter walked by her side, taking his phone out to call the doctor down on the main floor. Peter listened to Frankie's heart racing the whole way down. She was in a lot of pain. Her forehead was covered in sweat and she was growing pale by the second. 

"Okay, Dr. Fryden is waiting for us," Peter assured, slipping his phone back into his pocket. "Just gotta last another minute or so, okay?"

Unable to speak, Frankie just closed her eyes and nodded. Peter wanted to ask how she had dislocated her shoulder, but decided right now was the wrong time. Frankie was on the very edge, and Peter really didn't want to push her. 

When they made it to the main floor, they only needed to walk a few metres to the medical unit, but it felt like a few blocks to Frankie. Peter grabbed the door for her, making sure no one on the floor had seen them. The last thing Frankie needed was gathered attention on her right now. 

"If they don't give me drugs for this, just knock me out, okay?" Frankie begged.

"They'll definitely give you something,"

"But if they don't," Frankie groaned, turning to him. "Promise you'll do it, okay? Just punch me in the face or something, anything,"

Peter knew it was the pain talking, which is why he agreed.

"Alright, I promise,"

* * *

It was almost an hour later when they left the medical unit and headed for the elevator once again. Frankie had her injured arm strapped to her chest with a brace, and her other was slung around Peter's shoulder as he led them inside the empty elevator. 

"Where are we goin'?" Frankie asked, her words slow and slurred.

"I'm taking you home," Peter explained. 

"Can we go to the park?" 

Peter frowned.

"Uh, maybe not right now. The doctor said you need to take it easy for the rest of the day. The morphine's gonna wear off in about an hour and I don't think you're gonna feel too good when it does,"

"But it's such a nice day for the park," she argued. "Can you tell the doctor I want to go to the park?"

Peter grinned. Frankie was loopy, that was for sure. As soon as they had given her the morphine before moving her shoulder back into place, she had been giggling and talking absolute nonsense. It was much better than being in pain, but it meant that Frankie had very little awareness to filter what she was saying.

"Maybe we'll see Spider-Man!" she laughed.

Peter froze. This was a dangerous topic to jump into.

"I think he's following me. I'm pretty sure dad has made him a spy," she whispered. "But dad doesn't know that _I_ know that, so we're keeping it a secret. Shhhhh."

A secret. This was good. She didn't want Tony to know that she knew Spider-Man at all, and Peter could get on board with this plan. The last thing he wanted was for Tony to know had found Frankie that night without telling him. It only added to Peter's stress that Frankie was so high right now that she could say just about anything without a second thought.

"I won't say a word," Peter promised. "A secret, okay?"

"Mm hmm," Frankie grinned. "Secret."

The doors opened a few seconds later, and just as Peter thought, Tony was standing there waiting. He was in one of his good suits, straight from a meeting, and he looked just as stressed as Peter felt. But luckily for Peter, Tony's attention was taken immediately by Frankie's relieved cheer.

"Dad!" she gasped, stumbling out of the elevator. "Oh my god, you missed out! My arm was like, hanging off me! Wait, it's...arms _do_ hang off you, don't they?"

Peter watched as Tony tried to steady his daughter, putting his arm around her as she continued to rant to herself. 

"Uhh, they gave her some morphine before they popped her shoulder back in," Peter explained. "They said it should wear off within the hour...so..."

"So I essentially have a toddler again for the next hour, huh?" Tony sighed. ""Hey, are you in pain right now, kiddo?"

Frankie shook her head happily.

"I'm kinda sleepy," she admit. "Can we watch a movie?"

Tony looked over to Peter.

"Mind if we reschedule the lab today, Pete?""

"Yeah, no problem," he nodded. "I'm sure you'll have your hands full,"

"Well from the footage in the garage that Friday showed me, she'll be in a lot of pain later," he sighed, looking to his daughter. "Did you forget the rule I have about working on the car without me?"

"No heavy lifting on my own," Frankie laughed. 

"Exactly,"

"But I'm stronger than I look," she argued.

"I don't doubt that. But look what happens when you take a chance on it," he explained, turning back to Peter. "Thanks, kid. She probably wouldn't have gone down to medical without someone making her,"

"It's nothing," Peter shook his head. "Just glad I could help,"

"Thanks Peeeeete," Frankie grinned. 

Peter couldn't help smiling back at her. Even though she was high, eyes barely open, drooping against Tony's side as she tried to stay awake, Peter still thought she had the most infectious smile he had ever seen. 

"You're welcome,"


	4. Sneaky

“This is _so_ turning into a movie,” Ned gasped. “You _saved_ her!”

“It was a dislocated shoulder,” Peter rolled his eyes. “It's not like it was life-threatening,"

“But it could have been, and you saved her!”

“You’re missing the point,”

Peter was sitting on his bed, chemistry notes scattered everywhere. They had a test tomorrow and their study afternoon had now taken a detour. Peter realized his mistake by bringing up Frankie again. Ned didn’t need more ammunition for the story he was crafting in his head.

But Peter couldn’t help worrying about the Spider-Man situation.

“If she tells him that Spider-Man has been following her, _spying_ on her, Mr. Stark will probably never want to see me again,” Peter sighed. “And I’m not spying on her! I spotted her on the street at night, what else was I supposed to do?”

“Can’t you just explain that to him?”

Peter looked to his friend and shook his head.

“He would kill me for not calling him instead, or for not telling him immediately, or for taking the suit’s tracker offline _again_ when I told him I was just going home,” he explained. “There’s no version where he doesn’t kill me,”

“Mr. Stark wouldn’t kill you,” Ned argued. “He likes you too much,”

“As much as his own daughter?”

“Well if Frankie tells him what happened then she’s in way more trouble than you would be,”

Peter sighed, rubbing his eyes.

“Why do I keep screwing things up?”

“Dude, don’t be so hard on yourself," Ned explained. “I’m sure Frankie doesn’t think you screwed up, I bet she was really glad someone was there to help her,”

“I get the impression she isn't a big fan of Spider-Man, especially when she thinks I'm spying on her for her dad,”

Ned looked at Peter for a moment without saying a word before he shook his head slightly.

“Man, your life is _such_ a movie-“

“Okay, can we get back to studying now?” Peter groaned. “Otherwise I’m going to go insane,”

* * *

Frankie was laying in bed, with music playing too loud considering her headache, scrolling through her phone. She looked at every picture of Spider-Man that came up and was surprised that after a few years in the public eye, no one managed to get a photo of the web slinger without the mask. She was sure that if those pictures did exist out there, her father would have helped cover them up to protect Spider-Man's identity. Frankie knew that her dad knew more about Spider-Man than he ever let on, but she never pushed him for that information. Tony always spoke of Spider-Man like an equal who deserved his privacy as much as anyone else. It didn't stop the question from eating at her.

Tony hadn't mentioned anything about the night Spider-Man found her in the city, though. He made no comment to indicate he knew anything about it, as well. Maybe Spider-Man wasn't a spy. Or maybe they were both very, very good liars. 

Being followed and watched was something Frankie had been understandably paranoid about throughout her whole life. From the moment she was old enough to realize the life she was born into and to notice the way that paparazzi and reporters would run after her family, she had always looked over her shoulder. Luckily, Tony had security measures that gave her the privacy she deserved, but sometimes even Tony himself would push the limits. 

Frankie knew she wasn't a normal kid and she never would be. But she still wanted those normal experiences. She wanted to be able to sneak out, to go out of town without permission, to go to parties without her photo ending up in a magazine, and to have her life to herself. 

When she finally made her way to the kitchen around midday, her mom was unpacking groceries and looking at her watch.

"Please tell me you didn't just wake up," Isabella sighed. 

"I'm injured," Frankie pouted. "Did you get any juice?"

Isabella rummaged around one of the bags before pulling out a bottle of orange juice, sliding it toward her. Frankie grinned, grabbing a glass. Isabella watched as her daughter struggled to unscrew the lid with one hand, unable to hold back the amused smirk on her lips.

"Bisogno di aiuto?" 

Frankie huffed.

"Yes please," 

Sometimes Isabella panicked at how fast her daughter was growing. Frankie wouldn't need her as much anymore, she would be able to do everything on her own and wouldn't be waking up at midday asking for juice. But in moments like this, Isabella was reminded that she was still very much a teenager and still needed her mom.

Frankie sat at the kitchen counter chatting to her mom while she put groceries away, munching on the fresh bread and refilling her juice. It was sad to admit, but Frankie always felt more normal at home with her mom. They had a home that was full of memories and familiarity and no one really bothered them. They lived among their neighbours like everyone else as opposed to tall buildings and luxury mansions on private property with no one close enough to call neighbour. But both places were always home to Frankie. 

"Is it still okay for me to go to Taylor's tonight?" Frankie asked, opening a pack of cereal.

"But you're injured," her mother smirked. "Have you finished your history paper?" 

"Uh huh," 

"Then you can go," Isabella nodded. "But remember you're going to your dad's tomorrow afternoon so you'll have to pack today."

"Then he's taking me to get the brace off, right?" Frankie confirmed. "I can finally wear a jacket again!"

Frankie missed wearing a jacket properly instead of having it draped over her shoulders like she was off to a country club for golf. Especially when the night air was crisp enough to make her shiver, all she wanted was a jacket or sweater to hug around her.

That's all she could think about, later that night, when she stood inside the metal warehouse long after the sun had gone down. Taylor's boyfriend, Jay, had managed to get his hands on a 1960-something Pontiac GTO and even with her arm strapped in a brace, Frankie wasn't going to sit this one out. 

"And you're not gonna tell us where you managed to find this?" Frankie asked, looking at the engine. 

Her friends listened in for Jay's answer as they wheeled over tools and benches. 

"My uncle knows a guy," Jay shrugged.

"Oh my god, who do you think you are?" scoffed Seb as everyone began to laugh. "Did you get the mafia involved?"

Frankie grinned in amusement, but her attention was taken by the engine of the Pontiac. This one was going to be a little more difficult, especially with one arm, but she could manage it with some help. 

"Can we not talk about the mafia, please? For _once_ I want to feel a little less-criminal," Taylor huffed, opening up the case of wrenches.

"We're not criminals," Chris argued through a mouthful of pretzels. "Like, maybe some criminal- _ish_ shit happens, but we're not the bad guys here,"

"I agree with you, for once," Frankie laughed, turning to Jay. "But seriously, how'd you get his car?"

Jay took a deep breath, looking around his group of friends. 

"My uncle _does_ know a guy, I want that on record," he started. "He was at the bar when Vinny got to work. Got his hands on the keys, unlocked it with the beeper, and I took it from there."

They all stared back at him.

"Please tell me you checked for cameras-"

"Of course I checked for cameras you idiot, I'm not stupid-"

"Because that _one time_ you didn't think about it, we almost got arrested," Seb reminded. 

Ah, yes. The incident. Frankie was sure she was going to be grounded for the rest of her life. But, like many teenage adventures and close-calls, they somehow came out of the ordeal unscathed and undetected. But Frankie really did agree with Chris. They weren't criminals.

They were the neutrals. They weren't perfect, but they weren't the bad guys. It was a real Robin Hood situation. They knew lowlifes, terrible people around Boston, and they used them for their own gain. Vinny, a thirty two year old asshole, had forced himself onto a college girl who lived in Jay's sister's dorm. Now, Vinny would lose the iconic carburettor in his vintage muscle car. They weren't going to wreck the car though. They would replace it with a cheaper part, one that wouldn't last as long, and would tarnish the value of Vinny's pride and joy. 

"He gets off work at midnight," Jay sighed, hands on his hips. "Is it gonna be too much?"

Frankie looked from her friend to the car, shrugging.

"I mean, I'm doing this with a considerable handicap," she explained. "But we can do it."

Jay grinned.

"All right, everyone look alive and we should get this back before 11.30 if we're lucky,"

* * *

Tony had been watching on nervously for the past few minutes, waiting for Frankie to drop the milkshake in her hand. To celebrate getting the shoulder sling off, they had ended up at one of their favourite diners. Although the teenager now had ketchup stains all over her shirt and Tony felt like he was out with five year old Frankie. 

"It's so weird. It feels like it's not awake yet," Frankie explained, trying to lift her arm. "Like, _look_ at it!"

She raised her arm, finally, and Tony knew the shake was about to go all over her. He reached out just in time to straighten the drink, putting it back down on the table. Frankie laughed the whole time. 

"I'm glad you're getting a kick out of it," Tony shook his head, unable to hold back his own grin. "I hope you know how to get stains out of _white_ shirts,"

"I can get any stain out of anything," she guaranteed. "Vecchi segreti di famiglia from mom,"

"What about _Stark_ family secrets, huh? Actually...don't answer that," 

"Oh right, I should have asked you how your _butler_ got stains out," 

Tony glared over to her, shaking his head. This kid. 

"I'm being attacked."

They ate for a while in silence before Frankie started showing him photos from her week with her mom and Jonathan. They had set up a pizza oven in their backyard and Frankie had collected evidence of the chaos and eventual finished product. 

"Does it upset you?" she asked softly, sipping her milkshake.

"What? Your mom and Jon?" Tony asked, genuinely surprised. "No. Why would it?"

Frankie shrugged. "I don't know."

"Is mom upset about me and Pepper?" 

"No. She loves Pepper," the girl shook her head. "A lot of my friends parents are divorced and they don't get along. Like, at all."

"Yeah, that's rough. Hurts the kid more than they think," Tony nodded. 

"I think it's nice that you guys still like each other, that's all," she shrugged.

Tony smiled. "It's hard to not like the person who gave me my favourite person,"

Frankie blushed, shaking her head. "I'm _not_ your favourite person, dad. Come on! You know _superheroes._ "

"I know superheroes and the most famous people in the world, and it's still you, kiddo."

The teen stared back at her father, grinning madly, before she rolled her eyes.

"You're cheesy."

"You're messy," Tony laughed. "Oh my god, I need to take a photo of the state you're in,"

When they finally left the diner, hours later, the sun was just setting over the city. Happy was standing by the car, trying his best to contain his laughter at the mess that covered Frankie from her meal. By now, Tony had sent the photo to the whole family. She wrapped her jacket around her, covering the stains, as she noticed cameras appearing on the street. 

But instead of the lens being aimed toward her and Tony, the cameras pointed toward the sky. Frankie looked up to see what they were all after. The Spider. Swinging down the street, waving to people, and doing a double take when he spotted the familiar faces. 

"Not showing off at all," Tony sighed, watching the costume soar through the air higher and higher. 

"If I could swing around like that, I'd show off too," Frankie shrugged.

The mental image of Frankie web slinging around the city just about made him pass out. 

"You'd be terrible at keeping your identity a secret, though. You'd have slings and braces and casts all over you."

Frankie frowned, shaking her head.

"You have no faith in how sneaky I could be."


End file.
